Always Running Out Of Time
by Dajypop
Summary: A father (David Garin) and daughter (Rikki Garin) are Infected and become Smokers; Only for the third part of their family to remain human. Hard decisions come one after another. OC Origin Story.


**Title: Always Running Out of Time  
Author: Daisy  
Fandom: Left 4 Dead/Left 4 Dead 2  
Setting: The beginning of the Infection, three weeks after the initial Infection, and 7+ years after; New York.  
Pairing: OC X OC, Smoker/Witch, Smoker/Survivor  
Genre: Angst/Romance  
Rating: T  
Chapters: 1/1  
Word Count: 1736  
Type of Work: One-Shot, Slice of Life-esque  
Status: Complete  
Warnings: Gore, Underage Violence, Implied Nudity, Foul Language, Infected Behavior, Abandonment, Hurt, Emotional and Physical Pain, David Garin POV, Unbeta'd.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead/Left 4 Dead 2, Smokers, Witches, Hunters, or any of the elements of the story, I simply wrote it.  
Summary: A father (David Garin) and daughter (Rikki Garin) are Infected and become Smokers; Only for the third part of their family to remain human. Hard decisions come one after another. OC Origin Story.**

AN: So... This story's been in my head for a few days, and I finally had some time to get it out. It isn't huge, and it isn't really perfect, but I still like it. Yes, this is for my Infected-Sona, Rikki Garin. It's her father's story, telling why he started ignoring her after they became Infected. It is part of her driving force to do things, this abandonment, and thus is important to her story. I hope it's okay!

**Always Running Out of Time******

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I watched as it all happened... She thought that she watched as her family died, but the fact of the matter is that it was the other way around. Rikki was only Thirteen when the Infection hit... So I tried to spare her the worst of it. Luckily for us, we were infected before too many others were, so we turned easily enough. It was my darling Eileen that didn't make it. She tried to _shoot_ her own _daughter_, for Christ's sake, because she wanted a hug. Even as she embedded a bullet in my right shoulder, I still loved her. I loved her till the very end, and I _still_ love her. But, she's hopefully in a better place, now.

I remember it far too well, the night that it all started. Rikki had gotten sick at school, Eileen had been working longer hours at work, and I was the one there to care for our little girl. She was feverish and irrational, moaning in pain and agony while refusing to let me get too close to her. She calmed from her frenzy long enough for a thirty minute nap, during which time I was able to change the rag on her forehead and clean her up some, but her fever was unimaginable, I felt it burning my own skin. The problem was, even when I stopped touching her, it didn't go away. The real kicker, I think, was when she sat up and coughed, I remember exactly four deep, hacking noises, before a ball of what looked like slimy ooze slammed into my chest so hard I couldn't breathe. My mouth was open; I suppose that was my _real_ bad decision.

I stumbled back and knocked into the dresser, knocking nick-knacks and pictures onto the floor, gasping and gagging. It tasted horrible; almost like tar and smoke. I was fairly _sure_ she didn't smoke... But I suppose you never really know. Kids can be sneaky.

I started to feel worn out easier, and ended up carrying my baby girl to the bath tub, due to a suggestion by the News. It was five o'clock when that played; I set her up in some lukewarm water to help with the fever, and fed her some soup that seemed to go down easily enough. It didn't take long, though, before I managed to fall asleep beside her, my body sprawled out on the bathroom floor beside my daughter who, at the time, was becoming what my wife would later call a 'monster'.

The screaming jolted me awake and my head shot up, only to begin to swim, my vision blurry and dotted with black and white splotches. I didn't realize it at the time, but my depth perception was off. It took a yawn for me to realize that my tongue seemed to have lost all functioning, for it practically unrolled from my mouth like one would expect from a cartoon, flowing onto the floor and stopping just an inch from my wife's pointed toe shoes. The screaming, I noted dismally, was her; pointing and screaming and looking like she was readying anything she could to throw at us. For a few minutes, her voice rang in my ears but I couldn't understand a lick of it, and it seemed that little Rikki was having a hard time with that, too.

"Daddy... Wh-what's wrong with mommy...?" She sounded groggy, tired, but much better than she had in days. A ragged cough remained, but she sounded better, she sounded almost totally _healthy_; and then I turned and looked at her. Boils across her skin, said cream-colored flesh was now green, and her tongue just kept falling out, much like I'd watched mine do. We were Infected, and we were scared. But the terror had only begun; Eileen grabbed the shotgun I had in the house for protection from under the bed in the time that it took me to try and calm down our child, and Rikki was lucky that I saw it and pulled her out of the way. It was then that the shock of her words hit me, my brain finally catching up with it's English knowledge.

"Monsters! You're monsters! What did you do with my family!?"

If the smoke wasn't what did it, I'd say those words pierced my lungs and stole any breath I had. A sickening wheeze left me as I lifted my daughter up and took the door to the right that lead to my and my wife's bedroom. I grabbed what I could; a big t-shirt for Rikki to wear when we got time to clothe her, a picture of our family together, and my cell phone. With that, we headed for the window.

"D-daddy, I'm scared!" She cried, clinging to my t-shirt as I set her on the window sill.

"I know, honey, but we have to leave, now, okay? Come on, put this on..." She didn't fight me as I slid the t-shirt over her head and arms, and I was able to tell her the plan, "I'm going to lower my tongue... I need you to slide down it, like at the rock wall-" I could hear Eileen beating at the door I'd managed to lock, trying to get in, "And you need to go hide in the trees behind the house. I'll be out as soon as I can, and I will find you. Cluck, cluck?"

"P-Peep, p-peep." My poor little blonde smiled up at me through her tears, and I felt my heart wrench. I kissed her forehead, hugged her close, and after a whisper of 'I love you' behind us, loosed my tongue and watched it fall to the ground. Once she had a decent grip on it, she started down, but it was no use; she had peeked down and started to scream in fear. "D-daddy, I'm scared! It's too high!"

I had no choice.

Scooping her up into my arms, I pulled my tongue from her hands and wrapped it around the nearest thing to the window; the metal bedpost. Now, I had to go, down, down, down, holding her tight to my chest as she sobbed in fear. The door broke open with a loud_bang_, and it was the _blam, blam, blam!_ that let me know she was shooting at my tongue. I felt a bullet land and it loosened completely, dropping us the remaining five feet to the ground. No matter how much if hurt, I knew I had to get Rikki out of there, so I ran. It was all I could do; tuck my tail and make a run for It.

For three long weeks, I hoped for the best. I hoped Eileen would turn, because of what I'd overheard from other Infected. Sure, they were dying every day when the Survivors would go through their towns... But what was worse was that Survivors weren't being given a single shred of mercy. They were torn apart so quickly it was like they were little more than throwing a sheep's leg in to a pack of starved wolves.

Yet, I held hope that she would survive, join with a group that could protect her, or that she would retract the Infection and join us someday.

My hopes were dashed the day of our daughter's fourteenth birthday. November 30th is a day we will remember for the rest of our lives, and not only because of the birthday attached, but now the day of death.

I stalked the streets, trying to bring something back for my daughter to eat. Food was growing scarce, and we weren't sure what we would do. These thoughts bounced about my skull, driving me more and more to protect her, when I heard a Hunter's shriek a few alleyways away. Normally, I would have ignored it, but something drew me to the alleyway between the old Tax Office and State Farm building. And when I got there, I regretted it.

There was a red hood bouncing floppy ears up and down as I stared in abject horror, ripping into the flesh of a woman. A woman who appeared to be pregnant. Something spurred me on more, and I peeked around him enough to see her face.

I had never felt pain like I did at that moment.

Eileen's face paled as life faded from her body, and I saw her reach a hand to me. Oh, how I hoped she wouldn't have seen me. Maybe she didn't see me as I was, now, maybe she let her dying mind implant what I used to look like over this form. All I know is I heard an almost breathless 'help me!' and my heart shattered further. With a choked sob followed by a long string of coughs, I left, running with my tail tucked once more. I had this thought that this was what was best, it protected Rikki, and that was what I needed. But somehow I feel like I could have saved her. Maybe I really am useless...

Years have passed, now. Rikki is a grown woman, she's had her spills and her triumphs... But I can't find myself able to look at her. The more she grows, the more she looks just like her mother... And I can't bear the thought of losing her again. All I can think of is that I hope she does okay on her own. I have a new daughter to take care of, Molly, the daughter of my new wife... And I find it's easier to care for her, because she has nothing to do with my old life. It's selfish, maybe even childish, but... It's the best way for me to move on.

Eileen, if you read this as I write it, please... I hope you won't be too angry with me. I never thought things would go like this... And now that everything has gone down the crapper like this, I want you to know I still love you. I still love Rikki, as well... But I can't care for her anymore. I'm not sure what would happen if I lost her like I did you... Maybe I'm trying to save myself the pain, maybe I'm just abandoning my daughter out of selfish reasons. Don't judge me until I'm the one holding a shotgun to her face.

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End file.
